


Inward to Terrible Truths

by loudspeakr



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Masturbation, Sharing a Bed, Sleep Sex, Somnophilia, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-23 04:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14324586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loudspeakr/pseuds/loudspeakr
Summary: Sharing yet another bed with his best friend, Link is forced to face the consequences of his pining.





	Inward to Terrible Truths

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** This isn't for everyone. I know this, but _you_ also need to know this. (Click away if that alone makes you wary.) So long as we're on the same page, though, so long as everyone's mature enough to understand that everyone is different with different things that give them pleasure, we're going to get along just fine.
> 
> For those of you who are still here, the title is from a song called [_Keep Me In the Open_](https://open.spotify.com/track/0iqgClxYXJ4zEK2XOMreVf?si=zIcj9Nb9QDWKpIBAY18QCA) by Gang of Youths. Good song. Also, don't judge me, okay? Let's do this.

As soon as he emerges from the bathroom, Link’s sure the jig is up.

The evidence is all over him, clinging to him like the fruity-sweet smell of his shampoo. He tries not to think about the pleasant soreness in his ass, the cool touch of lube beginning to leak from his hole. Instead, he stands frozen by the bathroom door, unsure of what to do next, wondering how on earth he’s going to make it to the safety of sleep without compromising himself.

Honestly, he’s more than a little surprised he isn’t being ambushed right now, having the heat riding high on his cheeks pointed out for all to see, accusations thrown over what he’s _really_ been doing in the shower for the past thirty minutes or so, closer to fifty minutes if he’s counting his entire time in that room.

That’s absurdity talking, of course.

When he’s thinking with his actual brain, Link knows nothing here is suspicious. Rhett knows him, and how much he loves staying in hotels and the luxuries they provide. If he wants more of those little chocolates they leave on pillows, he’ll ring down for them. If he decides to order a bowl of cereal he’d never get for his own household at ten o’clock at night, he’s going to. And if he wants to take an obscenely long shower, you bet he’ll do just that, the entire experience made that much sweeter by the fact he needn’t even have to clean the thing afterwards if he doesn’t want to – but he will, of course, because he isn’t an animal.

Anyway. So, it stands to reason that it isn’t _so_ out of a question that Link made a conscious decision to be in the shower for a good half-hour – _at least_ – committing some ungodly act against the wet tiles, spurred on by a long-held fantasy he’s sure he’d lose a certain best friend over if he knew.

But never mind all that right now.

The most important thing – he thinks, as he concentrates on willing the guilt from his face – is that Rhett doesn’t seem to have noticed him. In fact, the man hasn’t even so much as acknowledged his reappearance in the room.

Link rounded the corner to find Rhett lazing back in bed – the king-size they’re sharing due to “ _another goddamn booking error_ ”, as was grumbled at him earlier – totally consumed by the screen in his hands. The room is dark, with only Rhett’s bedside lamp illuminating the space, and that’s honestly helping Link out a great deal right now – because, without his glasses on, he can barely tell that Rhett has already gotten ready for bed, bare-chested and clad in only his boxers. Except that he can totally tell.

This is going to be more difficult than he thought.

“You really gonna do that, man?” Link asks him, reaching for nonchalance and glossing over the familiar warmth in his groin stirring up again.

At that, Rhett looks up from his tablet, eyes softening in their confusion. “Do what?”

Link scoffs and gestures at his lack of clothing. He’s careful to keep his towel fisted tightly around his front, to keep both his developing situation and the half-empty bottle he has stashed underneath hidden from view.

“It’s more comfortable,” Rhett’s saying, a chuckle behind his matter-of-factly tone. “I mean, I’d be completely naked if you weren’t here. You should try it sometime.”

Link catches himself before he can slip up, palms sweating when he clears his throat instead. “Uh, maybe not tonight. Just, keep to your side of the bed, all right?”

Rhett responds with laughter, the sound of it melting through him just enough for him to take another step into the room. Because when Rhett laughs, it means they’re okay. It means they’re good. And it’s just the reassurance he needs right now. Rhett is his business partner, his best friend. And despite the deep-seated attraction he has for the man, it has no place in this reality they’ve built for themselves. He still has enough of a moral compass not to shove that private part of himself in Rhett’s face.

That said, he’s still safe within his own mind, however pathetic it is, so Link holds the explicit scene in his mind’s eye when he turns to drop his lube inconspicuously into his suitcase, rummaging through clothing to keep it from sight. He fishes out a pair of boxer-briefs and his flannel pyjamas and tucks it all under his arm, about to head back into the bathroom to get dressed.

But as soon as he turns back around, Rhett’s staring straight at him, a look he holds even when Link catches him. There’s no reading what he sees there, some weird smouldering thing Link doesn’t feel comfortable taking the time to analyse. So he ducks his head out of Rhett’s line of sight, cursing himself silently all the way to the next room, and shuts the door behind him.

 _Did he see something? He couldn’t have_ , Link’s thinking, pacing a hard line across the floor where he’d spent five-ish minutes earlier wiping up the splattered mess he’d made. Is there a tenseness to his shoulders he hadn’t dropped, a tremor in his voice he couldn’t control? Did Rhett catch a glimpse of the bottle he’d emptied on himself while he was in here earlier?

Either any of that, or Rhett saw nothing at all, and Link’s just being stupid and paranoid.

 _That’s it_ , he tells himself, wanting desperately to believe it. _Rhett saw nothing, you’re fine._ He gets dressed quickly, splashes cold water on his face, doesn’t bother tidying the toiletries he’s left strewn by the sink. Steeling himself, he re-enters their room with his chin up and eyes averted, moving straight for the safety of bed as soon as he can. Slipping his legs underneath, he pulls the duvet up to his ears and shuts his eyes, willing the day to end sooner.

“I guess we’re going to bed then,” Rhett mutters over his shoulder, and there’s some shuffling – the clatter of Rhett’s tablet being put down on the table – before he hears the sound of a switch being flipped. The room plunges into darkness around them. “You okay, Linkster?”

He almost answers, being so used to sharing everything with his best friend. But he leaves it be, leaves Rhett hanging for fear of eluding to the anxiety threatening to take him over. He keeps still, forces his breathing to even out, and eventually Rhett lays back.

“Good night, bo,” Link soon hears, whispered so softly he isn’t sure it was really meant for him.

He waits a few moments more, listening to his best friend fall asleep beside him, until he starts to fall under himself.

 

 

 

 

 

Link blinks his eyes open some time later. It’s still night-time, his clock telling him it’s two-thirty-six in the morning. It takes him a moment to understand where he is – _a hotel, he’s away, a work trip_ – and figure out why he’s woken up. He coughs and realises it’s his throat, parched and thirsty, so he reaches out for his glass of water, only to sweep through empty air instead.

In his haste earlier, Link realises he’d forgotten to set up his water and his lip balm by the bed, and as if to salt the wound, he darts his tongue out to find his lips beginning to chap. His lip balm is in the bag across the room.

But something over his shoulder startles him first. A gentle snore reminds him he’s sharing the bed tonight, and he turns to look over the blur of Rhett’s hulking frame. He’s surprised to find him sprawled out the way he is, not the rigid line of discomfort he expected. Instead, Rhett looks tauntingly angelic in the muted moonlight, face relaxed and eyelids fluttering, the bedsheets having slipped far enough down his torso to expose the sprinkling of hairs around his belly button. Link lets his gaze trace downward to where the sheets end, wanders over the freckles dotting his skin before landing finally on the soft line of Rhett’s hips. Link draws his tongue across his lips once more. It’s all he can do not to reach out and touch.

He’s shaking himself out of it, telling himself no, when Rhett shifts suddenly, rolling over to sling an arm heavily across Link’s middle. He heaves a sigh before settling again, his weight effectively pinning Link down. It wouldn’t be difficult for Link to get out of this – he’s had enough practise with Rhett’s wrestling moves in college after all – but something stays him.

There’s a certain intimacy in this they’ve never shared before. They’ve shared beds in the past, sure, and there’s always been inadvertent contact, but Link knows himself so much more now, knows better than to flinch away this time. So, slowly, he lays back down against the pillows, careful not to jostle Rhett out of his slumber, slipping back under the duvet with Rhett’s arm resting on his belly.

Rhett’s skin is soft and warm – even through the fabric of Link’s pyjamas – bordering on hot, despite the cool climate of their room. Link doesn’t know what he’s doing here, what he hopes to achieve. But he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, giving himself over to whatever enlightenment this might give him. He keeps himself slack and loose, zeroes his focus in on the subtle weight on top of him, breathing deeply – in and out, in and out – to feel the miniscule friction of Rhett’s arm against him.

But it isn’t enough, _this isn’t enough_ , and Link knits his brow in brief frustration, rucking his shirt up and over his head before he can think about it.

And there it is, Rhett’s bare skin against his.

There’s no way he could’ve foreseen just how intoxicating this is, just that simple point of contact, inviting and familiar. He’s had Rhett’s arms around him in the past, of course, but never once like this, never for more than just a couple of seconds, never so innocently without malice or humour behind it.

Link stays put for a few minutes more, savouring what he can of this, until he can’t resist any longer. Beneath the covers, he brings his hand up from his side, fingertips seeking without seeing, and quickly finds the hard edges of Rhett’s knuckles. He moves upwards to trace the tendons in the back of Rhett’s hand, finds the delicate pulse in his wrist.

Even though he’s unable to see him, Rhett is beautiful, every part of him, even in sleep. How did he possibly go for so long of his life not _seeing_ him like he does now?

Link continues his exploration, taking the time to enjoy and memorise every plane of skin and muscle he comes across. It’s when his fingers find the crease past Rhett’s forearm that the man moves again. Link freezes, lets the hand sliding up his torso splay its fingers over his racing heart. Then Rhett pulls him backward, still unconscious, and huffs a sigh into Link’s hair.

Too scared to move, Link lets out a shaky breath. The length of his spine is nestled against Rhett’s torso, the rise and fall of his chest against Link’s shoulder blades. He can feel Rhett’s legs hook and tangle with his beneath the sheets, leg hair scratching against his calves. Rhett lets out a soft groan then, the rush of breath tickling past Link’s ear, lips so close to the drumming pulse in Link’s neck.

He feels so small, enveloped like this. It’d be so easy to fall asleep here, wrapped up in Rhett and this sense of contentment, of how he’s made Link feel his whole life. Safe, protected, loved. Happy. He would drown in this feeling if he could.

Then Rhett’s hips shift forward, and Link gasps.

It’s only now that Link can feel it, the hard line of Rhett’s cock against the plump of his ass. And like magic, Link can feel his hole clench greedily, feels the remnants of the lube he used in the shower earlier. It all comes rushing back to him: the stretch of himself around his three fingers, hot water pooling inside him as it fell in rivulets and found its way inside, having to bite back a wail into his forearm, and coming all over the wall instead, the whole scene fuelled by the mental image of his best friend who sat unknowingly on the other side of the wall.

Link’s tracing over the bite marks on his arm when Rhett humps forward again, more insistent this time, enough that Link can gauge just how big he is. He wriggles back before he can stop himself, seeking that friction he craves so much, and it’s right there, _just there_ , close enough for Link to take. Link’s breath catches when Rhett does it again, almost missing the tensing of Rhett’s fingers over his chest, an unmistakably full erection now lining up perfectly between his cheeks.

This is all getting away from him way too quickly, his better judgement clouded by the ideas now beginning to fill his head. He knows he needs to stop, but he can’t bring himself to pull away, can’t bear to part with the hold Rhett currently has over him. He shoves his pants down his legs, followed by his underwear not a second after, skin bare now to take it the next time Rhett moves against him.

Clawing into the mattress, Link grits his teeth and grinds down on Rhett’s hardness through his boxers. He can feel Rhett’s groin slip further into his crevice, still slippery with lube, the silky thin fabric leaving barely anything to the imagination.

Rhett stills for a moment, and Link takes the opportunity to put some space between them. He reaches back to delve inside, eager fingers teasing at his rim before slipping through. There’s still so much slickness in there, and he slides against his own walls, prods when he finds what he’s looking for, pulling a shockwave through himself. Then, palming his cock, he pulls out and takes a moment to breathe. He knows he has a choice now, his mind in turmoil at the knowledge of what he wants to do.

But the decision is made for him as Rhett starts to move again, pulling Link back to hug him tightly to his chest. He’s getting restless now, beginning to toss and turn, and that’s when a string of unintelligible syllables hits Link’s ears, voice muffled into the pillows.

“ _Uhhh_ ,” Rhett whines, and Link groans his frustration at the sudden lack of movement. But Rhett starts babbling again, “ _Link, oh_ ,” he hears this time, the sound of his own name miraculous and still blessedly thick with sleep. And that’s all Link needs, that’s all it takes for him to reach behind and unbutton the fly to Rhett’s underwear.

He doesn’t go so far as to take Rhett out of his confines – because, as soon as the material falls open, he doesn’t need to. Rhett’s shifting again, moving forward to rub against him, slipping out of his underwear in the process. Link doesn’t dare move, keeps still to concentrate on the trail of wetness Rhett’s leaving on his skin before it’s smeared by another hump forward, Rhett’s cock unclothed this time and pressing unbearably against him. Link lets a moan force its way out at the feeling as Rhett crowds into him more somehow, bringing them closer still, drawing back before thrusting forward again to trace the wet tip of his hardness down Link’s thigh and back up again to catch itself between Link’s cheeks.

Link can hardly think to breathe when he realises what’s happening, that Rhett has embedded himself in the cleft of his ass, the thought itself almost too much to take. He distracts himself with the drag of Rhett’s thigh against his own as Rhett rolls his hips again, precome slickening the way, until suddenly he’s already prodding at Link’s hole.

 _Shit_ , and Link’s got a right mind to back out of this, _too much, too far_ – but it’s too late, and Rhett pushes into him, the blunt head of his cock slipping easily past the tight ring of muscle, now stretching wide to accommodate Rhett’s girth.

He stills there, and so does Link, too stunned and high on a concoction of bodily chemicals to comprehend his next course of action. It’s only the head inside him right now, but the thought of it is enough for Link’s dick to throb, stealing his focus for a quick moment to bring attention to its neglect where it lays against the mattress. Link wraps a hand around it, squeezing to keep it at bay.

There’s no other way around it: this is fucked up, god, he knows this is _fucked up_. In fact, he’s not sure what’s worse: the fact that Rhett’s fucking him, or that he doesn’t _know_ he’s fucking him, a point only further illustrated by the soft snore Rhett lets out then. But, _shit_ , this is everything, it’s all he’s ever dreamed about, and it turned out to be so much _more_ than that somehow.

He should stop – but he doesn’t give into his own desires very often, and when he does, he berates himself so harshly afterwards, rides out the guilt for days, sometimes weeks to come. That’s exactly what waits for him on the other side of this, when this night is over and reality has firmly retaken its place.

Doesn’t he deserve better than that? Hasn’t he been good enough – with his thoughts, with his behaviour, with their friendship – through all these years? Can’t he just be allowed to do the wrong thing for once?

It’s a pathetic attempt at negotiating with his own ethics, but he pushes the thought aside altogether, holds his breath and squeezes to get better feel of every vein, every muscle, every inch of Rhett inside him. He hears his friend’s breath hitch in response before broad hands move back down his chest to his belly, open palms smoothing over his skin, his body hair, to hook fingers around his hips. Those hands pull him in again, in tandem with another roll of Rhett’s pelvis, pushing further into him, not quite bottoming out, but enough for Link to swipe a thumb across the slit on his own cock, his fingertip coming away with more moisture.

“Rh–” he almost lets slip before biting down on his bottom lip. He’s gotta hold on, needs to pull it together.

But Rhett draws away again before fucking back into him, his hips meeting Link’s for the first time. Link keeps his eyes closed, not wanting to detract from any of this, as Rhett’s thrusts find their rhythm, smoother now, more consistent, maddeningly slow. Link can’t believe he isn’t waking from this, from the sensation of tight heat around him, but Rhett’s always been a heavy sleeper where Link was just always quicker to get there. The same can be said for this because Link’s eyes are rolling back into his head, gasps and pants coming in quicker to match Rhett’s steady pace. He isn’t jerking himself off, merely keeping a tight grip on his cock to draw this out for as long as he can, holding himself back from toppling over the edge too soon.

But when Rhett nudges past his prostate one more time, Link knows he’s done for, and he’s quickly coming undone, even under the pressure of his fist held tightly around himself, spurting the evidence of his pleasure out under the covers, unable to yell out or jolt away from the onslaught.

Rhett isn’t done, though, and with heaving lungs, Link’s forced to ride it out, grits his teeth and bears the brunt of an uninhibited Rhett as he takes what he apparently needs. He’s mumbling again, no longer Link’s name but a disjointed chant of grunts and moans. His pace still isn’t anywhere near as frantic as it should be at this stage, every unhurried roll of his hips another wave of oversensitivity for Link to endure.

He can only breathe through it, unable to do much else, harsh drags of stingingly cold air through his nostrils. He’s all too aware now of the sheen of sweat covering his body, a result from the exertion of holding his reactions back – and, god, he wanted to react. There are still echoes of it pinging through his system, and every time Rhett pushes back into him, he’s reminded of the incredible high he just fell from.

But fallen he has, a sense of shame and humiliation now washing over him at the thought of what he’s done. He can’t ever tell anyone about what happened here tonight, let alone his best friend of all people. It would mean losing him, their reality, everything if anyone found out.

This is his burden now, his own regret to keep, and his alone.

Rhett shifts forward once more, his fingernails jabbing gently into Link’s belly, barely a sound for Link to take as warning. Then there’s a second where it feels like it’s over, and that’s when Link feels it. It’s small, almost nothing, but the twitch of Rhett spilling into him has him wincing, a new warmth spreading inside him. He can feel it filling him up with every pulse of come that follows, and Link chokes back a sob, feeling so full and dirtied.

After what feels like hours, the twitching stops and Rhett finally softens, still held snug inside. Link lets him settle back down before working himself free, gently lifting Rhett’s arm from around himself. He holds his breath when Rhett’s cock slips wetly from him, remembering to clench, not wanting any of his come to drip out. He gently tucks Rhett into his boxers, does the buttons up, pulls the covers back over his friend’s exhausted body.

Then, as quietly as he can, Link slips out of bed for the bathroom, taking his clothes with him. He wants to cry, but he can’t, not yet, not before he can clean himself, not before he’s feeling human again. He makes it into the bathroom without incident and flicks the light on, forgetting to properly shut the door behind him. It’s the sight of himself in the mirror – spent and ruined – that finally does it, and he lets go, letting the tears brim over, a stream of sickeningly warm come starting to dribble down his leg.

He doesn’t see the light switch on in the next room or hear the footsteps padding toward the door, doesn't catch the door creaking open wider behind him.

“Link?”

**Author's Note:**

> ... Yeah, uh, I don't know. Like I said, don't judge me. Leave me comments and kudos instead. Keep my ego inflating, would ya please?
> 
> Also, [I can be found here.](http://loudspeakr.tumblr.com) Don't make me regret telling you that.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Sleepless Hours](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14402340) by [Mintrosy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mintrosy/pseuds/Mintrosy)




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